


you're my only

by softsocky



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: M/M, dongmin and jinjin are only mentioned in passing oops, guess what?? its a high school au, im a shithole!! what else is new though!!, rocky is super jealous and possessive, sanha gets angry wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/softsocky
Summary: No one really believes that Sanha's relationship with the senior, pro-dancer Rocky actually exists.





	you're my only

**Author's Note:**

> anyways, i love astro's rapline, but this title is from 'stay with me' by astro

It wasn’t that they were hiding their relationship, it was just that they ran in different social circles, and being in different grades meant they never really bumped into each other. Hiding a relationship would imply either a desperate need for privacy or perhaps an even more desperate need for secrecy – maybe even _both_ – but for Sanha and Rocky, that hadn’t really been the case.

The two of them met during Sanha’s first week of high school.

Rocky was only one year older, barely a noteworthy age gap, but the elder was also noticeably _cooler_ than Sanha was. Not that the younger had _minded_ – Sanha had always been like that. He’d always been a little quirkier than most, hair a little _too_ blonde, voice a few octaves _too_ high. He was subjected to merciless bullying in his early teens – for his braces and awkward red hair and even for his _height_ – but somewhere along the line they must have realised it was having little to no impact, so the older he got, the less frequent the teasing became, until, _eventually_ , it had stopped all together.

Rocky was _cool –_ not just to Sanha, but to everyone else, too – because he played basketball really well despite being shorter than Sanha himself; he was as unreasonably kind as he was attractive, and he held himself in some kind of way that just oozed both confidence and modesty; and, not to mention, the boy had won numerous awards for his dancing, both with his team and for his solo performances. He’d been dancing since well before he could remember, but had done so professionally – with the support of an _academy_ and even _sponsors_ – since he was eleven years old. Sanha hadn’t known him then, but if he _did,_ he was sure he’d love him just as much as he did now.

Sanha had been a first year, limbs a little too-long as he fumbled over himself in the corridor, trying to remember his way to the music room. It was nearing the start of class, and he was slightly out of breath. He’d slept in later than usual that morning, hitting snooze on his alarm one too many times, and he was now facing the consequences. Though his uniform was ironed and pressed, shirt tucked into his trousers, tie knotted carefully around his neck – he still looked a _mess._ He hadn’t done his hair, and he was almost positive there was a chunk of toothpaste somewhere in the blonde strands falling around his ears. He hadn’t done his morning skincare routine, either, so there was bound to be an unsightly sheen to his skin, especially underneath the horrid hallway lighting.

Sanha wanted nothing more than to turn back around and go _home_ , crawl back into bed and sleep for twelve hours _at least_ – but alas, school he had, and would attend, so long as his Mum was in charge.

She hadn’t really believed him when he told her he wasn’t feeling all that well – had thought the faint sweat on his forehead was just from the heat, not from the oncoming fever he could feel swelling underneath his skin; thought his lack of appetite was all part of an _act_ to get out of school. She’d have normally been right, too, had it not been for the light-headedness that had accompanied the sweats, the _shivers_ , the fact that there wasn’t just _three_ people standing out front of the music room, but _nine._ He was seeing triple, and by the time he got the door of his classroom, he felt on the verge of throwing up whatever remained in his stomach – last night’s dinner, perhaps, combined with burning stomach acid.

He didn’t recognise the students outside the room as his peers, who leaning casually against the row of lockers there, one of which, had he not been so delirious, would have seriously peaked his interest. The delirium soon flared up, a wild fire in his veins, and before he had any recognition of what was going on, his head was hitting the hard linoleum below, and _triple_ quickly turned into _nothing at all._

Fainting in front of the cute second year hadn’t been Sanha’s intention. In fact, fainting in front of anyone had never been something to cross his mind. He woke up the school sick bay, head thumping and a stiff white blanket throw haphazardly around his legs. He doesn’t remember much of that day – the moment he fainted and hit his head so hard he _passed_ _out_ – but he’ll never forget waking up with the beautiful boy with sharp cheekbones and rosy pink lips at his bedside, looking sheepish and guilty and amused all at once. He’ll never forget learning his name – _Rocky_ – and how the boy had, inadvertently, changed his perspective of _perfect_ for the rest of his life.

That was three years ago now, and Sanha had never really gotten over the embarrassment of what had happened – but, was so incredibly thankful for it, too. Had it not happened, had his Mum not forced him to school, he may never have had the opportunity to meet Rocky, the _god damn_ love of his _life._ He was now halfway through his junior year, Rocky a senior, nearing the end of his high school career forever. Sanha wasn’t too terrified, knowing full well the dance academy the boy had destined himself to was still in Seoul, so they weren’t going to be separated after graduation. He was thankful as such, because the thought of being a part from him was sickening – almost as sickening as they day they met.

The thing was though, Sanha was _quiet_. On the outside, at least.

He’d gone and made friends, a boy called MJ and another called Bin, who were charming and silly and both of whom were in long-term relationships, and had been the entire time Sanha had known them. That had never really bothered Sanha all that much. Sure, the two couples – _MJandJinJin and BinandEunwoo_ – were cliché and cuddly and so very much into PDA that it sometimes made him _cringe,_ but Sanha had gotten used to it, and when he finished school, he had a wonderful boyfriend of his own to crawl into the arms of. It was just, at school, their paths never really crossed.

Sure, people knew they _spoke._ Rocky and Sanha were, to them, acquaintances at best. It wasn’t Sanha’s fault that people didn’t take the time to really _look_ at their interactions, merely just looked at the surface, and made their judgements from that. Rocky was protective and touchy and adorably _clingy_ when they were alone, because both boys weren’t particularly fond of rubbing their relationship in everyone else’s faces (unlike _two others_ Sanha knows). Inside school though, there were the occasional waves in the hallway when they saw each other, or Sanha would beam at Rocky from across the lunch hall – or, every now and then, they’d throw each other a quick _hello_ as they hurried in between classes. Underneath the surface, though, had anyone bothered to look, they would have noticed the look in the boys’ eyes, something that could only be described as pure _affection_. They would have noticed how those looks lingered more often than not on the others lips, or their retreating bodies, or how most of the time, the two boys would walk home together, chatting and laughing and, eventually, wrap their arms around one another. It wasn’t Sanha’s fault that MJ and Bin never believed him when he said that he was dating Rocky, the seemingly out-of-his-league student who had far too many friends and was far too high on the social ladder to even _know_ Sanha.

So, it had been them who had suggested Sanha ask someone to the school dance in a few weeks’ time.

The whole thing was ridiculous to Sanha, because he already had a date. Rocky had asked him weeks ago, avoided the hassle that people went through with their prom proposals, and just asked him over coffee one Sunday. Still, after dating for three years, Sanha had turned bright red and fumbled over his words before stuttering out a barely-there _yes of course,_ earning himself a chaste kiss from across the table. He had tried to explain to them, _over_ and _over_ , that the pro-dancer boyfriend that he had told them all about _did_ exist, and in fact, was sitting on the other side of the lunch hall with the rest of the basketball team.

But alas, they never really believed him – proceeded to state that he was merely delusional, and that he really shouldn’t let Rocky catch him saying these things. After a year of trying to convince them of otherwise, Sanha had well and truly given up.

 

“Sanha – what about Robbie?”

Sanha grunted, looked up from his phone. “Robbie?”

MJ nodded, pointed across the room to the apparent _Robbie_. He had pretty dark hair and big hands, Sanha would admit, but he was chewing with his mouth open and that was just not a good look on anybody.

“What about him?”

Beside him, Bin sighed. “Robbie doesn’t have a date for the dance.”

Sanha shrugged, took a sip of his water. “Unlucky.”

“So are _you,_ Sanha,” MJ said with a roll of his eyes.

The boy in question threw his head back, eyeing the ceiling. “For the thousandth _time_ , I already _have_ a date. I’m going with—”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re going with your boyfriend Rocky. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

MJ cackled, and Sanha continued to pick at his lunch.

 

The next day, as Sanha was putting away his books in his locker, he felt a presence come up behind him. Smiling to himself, he turned, expecting to find Rocky leaning against his lockers there. Instead, he found _Robbie_ , grinning widely and looking far too cocky for Sanha’s liking.

“Uh,” Sanha managed, “hello?”

He didn’t want to be _rude,_ but the fact that Robbie was here, a day after his friends had suggested that he ask him to prom, was far too obvious to be a coincidence.

“Hey Yoon Sanha.” He sounded as cocky as he looked. Sanha groaned inwardly, dreading the conversation he knew was coming. “I heard you need a date for prom.”

He hadn’t even _asked_ anything, his voice lacking the usual questioning tone people offered, so Sanha knew it was going to be harder to let him down nicely. In fact, no matter how he did it, he knew enough about Robbie to know that he would shit all over his name at his rejection.

“You must have heard wrong,” he said, slamming his locker shut. Out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a messy head of silvery, brown hair, and puffy pink lips, and Sanha’s heart swelled. He turned to pick his bag up from the floor, ignoring the shocked expression on Robbie’s face. “Sorry,” Sanha quickly added, hoping to ease the blow a little, before scurrying away and around the corner to where Rocky waited.

 

This continued for the rest of the week. Each day, MJ and Bin would have a new target for Sanha to take to prom, and then later on, said target would approach him in the hallway. It was getting harder and harder to let people down, especially when they started to butter him up with flowers and chocolates and plush animals that MJ and Bin must have told them he had a soft spot for. But every damn time he thought about saying _yes_ , just to appease his friends, just to avoid hurting the feelings of the unsuspecting victim in front of him, he would see Rocky standing in his peripheral vision, and he was reminded of _why_ he was becoming the bad guy.

Rocky wasn’t all that fond of the fact Sanha was getting frequently approached by said suitors, and every time they walked home together, Sanha would notice how much _clingier_ he had become, how much more _possessive_. Not that Sanha minded. He liked how affectionate and jealous Rocky could be, but still, it made his heart ache that it even had to be this way. He brought it up with him one night, when they were snuggled up against each other in Rocky’s bed, limbs tangled and hands clutching at each other.

“Maybe we should tell them?”

Rocky snorts against him, where his face is pressed into the youngers hair. “We _have_ been telling people. For three years, actually,” he said, leaning down and kissing him, smiling against his lips when Sanha presses back against him. Rocky very quietly, and very quickly, whispers out an “ _I love you,”_ as he does so, and both boys separate their lips and flush. They’d been together for so long, in _love_ for so long, yet the words still made them both speechless and giddy and awkward.

Sanha shrugged against him, before shuffling a little further forward, so he could tuck his head down into Rocky’s neck. “I mean, we should do it _together._ I know we hate that PDA bullshit, but _God,_ I’m getting sick of them.”

Rocky lays quietly for a moment, before he rolls onto his back, pulling Sanha with him. Sanha blushes at their position now, his legs straddling Rocky’s hips, looking down at the smirking senior. He sighs now, hair splayed out across the pillow. “ _I’m_ getting sick of you being asked. I hate not being able to jump you in the hallways,” his thumbs were rubbing mindless circles on Sanha’s bare hips, and Sanha felt his heart lurch in his chest.

“You _can,_ you know. If you want. I’d let you.”

Sanha hadn’t really meant it to sound sexy, or hot, or whatever the fuck else, but Rocky must have found it to be – because his pupils expanded and his hands tightened. “No, you wouldn’t. You hate PDA,” he said matter-of-factly, but his eyes were watching Sanha’s lips.

Sanha giggled, hands pressing down on his boyfriend’s chest, silently admiring the toned landscape of his chest there. “Yes, I do. But I love you _more_ than I hate PDA. That’s got to count for something, right?”

Then Sanha did something a little cheeky with his hips, and Rocky groaned at him before changing their position again, making Sanha giggle and squeal in his grip.

 

The kinda-sorta-not-really secretive couple, Sanha and Rocky, had decided that making their relationship that much more obvious was the first step to making everyone else actually _realise_ what was going on.

Sanha started to be a bit more vocal about his appreciation for Rocky in school, taking to succumb to his desperate need to stare fondly at him from across the lunch hall, from against his locker, in between classes. MJ and Bin had snapped their fingers in front of his face on multiple occasions, trying to snap him out of his daze, but it was no point: Sanha wanted to stare, and he was allowed too now, no matter how gross and cringe it was. Occasionally, Rocky would stare back, and Sanha would giggle and blush like a school girl and would have to look away before he thought about anything inappropriate.

Rocky had also taken to touching Sanha whenever possible. MJ and Bin had started to notice this, and the couple had maybe thought that this would be what made them finally believe him. But neither boy mentioned, just watched the high fives and hugs with curiosity and disbelief. Sanha had, at one point, made a huge sign with Rocky’s name printed along it in red glitter to wave around at one his performances that MJ and Bin had attend with him too, and when Rocky’s performance was done, the cheeky fucker had even sought him out and _pointed_ at him – but alas, Sanha’s friends were right dickheads, and still, every lunch, another student would come up to him and ask if he wanted to go to prom with them. And, as usual, Sanha would say _no, sorry, I’m going with my boyfriend._

At one point, Bin had actually gotten angry. Sanha had just turned down _Natalie_ , and when she had walked away, Bin slammed his hand down on the table. Sanha had jumped, dropping his spoon. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with you Sanha?”

Sanha just stared at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide and bulging out of his head. “W-what?”

Bin groaned, let his head fall into his open hands, so the scream he let out would be muffled and unsuspecting in a room full of students. “What’s it going to take for you to say _yes?_ ”

It was Sanha’s turn to feel angry now. After three years with the boy he loved, he’d have thought his best friends would have – at some point – come to believe him. This entire time, he had never denied their relationship, in fact, had promoted it so openly that there was no reason people shouldn’t believe him. Sure, they didn’t grope each other in public, but that was their decision, and a respectful one at that, too, but that didn’t mean his friends had any right to discredit his words. Sanha had been more than truthful, so very open and honest and all they had to do in return was laugh at him, call him childish and imply that he was a downright liar. And Sanha had put up with for too long. Now, sitting with both boys who didn’t believe him, Sanha’s patience had run out.

Just as he was about to say as such to the quivering-with-anger boy beside him, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned harshly in his seat. He came face-to-face with a student he didn’t recognise, who was shorter than he was, but that not being too uncommon. He looked nervous, and despite the fire running in his veins, Sanha didn’t have it in him to be rude to him. When he asked – voice wobbly and stuttering – if Sanha wanted to go with him to prom, Sanha just politely turned him down. Before Bin and MJ could say anything more, Sanha packed up his belongings and left the room, ignoring his friend’s yells calling after him.

That night, he wept so hard into Rocky’s shoulder that he fell asleep fully dressed in his uniform, and woke up to swollen eyes and blotchy skin.

 

The monster inside Rocky finally reared its ugly head a few days later, after a particularly bad prom proposal. Sanha had been eating his lunch peacefully with MJ and Bin – whom he’d yet to fully forgive, but had elected to forget the argument had really even happened – when there was a cough from behind him. He closed his eyes around his mouthful, knowing that the peace was now over. It had been too good to be true, considering not a single person had come to approach him all day, and there was only five minutes of their lunch break left. Sanha had stupidly thought that maybe MJ and Bin’s persistence with the other students had finally stopped, but that was wishful thinking, apparently.

Sanha turned in his seat, ready to remove the politeness from his voice, ready to alert to everyone in the near vicinity that he already had a date to the school fucking dance he was already sick of. In front of him thought was Robbie. Again. Eyes just as cocky and smug as they had been the first time.

Sanha felt sick when Robbie’s hand cupped his cheek. He yanked his head back, but the boy only stepped closer, tightening his hold.

“I’ve been told you’re still looking for a date.”

Sanha looked up at the boy with disgust, tugging at his wrist now, trying to pry his fingers from his face. He had no idea what MJ and Bin had told Robbie, but he was definitely going to have it out with them later.

“Robbie, I’m sorry. But that’s not _true._ I’m going with my boyfriend—”

Robbie snorted that this. “Yeah, right. I’ve heard about this elusive boyfriend of yours. Rocky, wasn’t it?” The boy snorted again, finally removing his hand from Sanha’s face, but not the expression he wore. Sanha made no move to respond, held Robbie’s gaze with what he hoped was dominance.

“You see,” Robbie started again, pulling out the chair beside Sanha and sitting himself down. Sanha shrunk away from him, pressing into Bin’s side. No matter how shit Bin and MJ had been to him – not believing him, trying to set him up with everyone in the damn _school_ – they’d never want this for him. They’d never _ask_ someone to treat him as such, and Sanha knew that the two of them were there for him if this got any more out of hand. He wanted to look at his two friends now, to see their expressions, to see what they had _caused._ More than that, though, he wanted to look over to Rocky, who sat with his own friends; wanted to see if he was watching what was going down, wanted him to come rescue him.

“I’m not really sure I believe that Rocky would date _you,_ ” he continued, smirking across to him. MJ made a noise from across the table, but Robbie held up a hand to silence him. “I mean, not even your friends believe you, right? So why would anyone else?”

Sanha wanted to say something, _anything_. He wanted to stand up for himself, but he couldn’t find his words, couldn’t move his tongue – not entirely sure he still even _had_ one.

“You know what I think _Yoon Sanha?_ ” Sanha said nothing, but Robbie didn’t hesitate to answer his own question. “I think you’re saying no to everyone for attention, because _maybe_ you do want me to ask you again.”

Sanha may not have said anything, but he did laugh at the boy’s accusation – laughed a _lot_. And he heard Bin laughing, too, and MJ just cackled sheepishly loud with his hand covering his mouth. Robbie didn’t look discouraged though, because his hand returned to Sanha’s face now, with much more force than before, and dragged their faces together.

Their lips were touching for a total of two seconds before Robbie’s face was yanked away from his. It was two seconds after _that_ that Sanha saw Rocky standing behind them, hand latched into Robbie’s hair, and pulling him upright. Robbie was _taller_ , but Rocky was _stronger_ , and fuelled by the possessiveness that was biting his skin. He had simply yanked the boy up and out of the chair, ignoring the boy’s yells, and had punched him square in the nose.

Robbie fell to the floor with a cry, one that was masked by the yells of MJ and Bin and everyone else around him. Sanha leapt up from his own seat, eyes wide and alarmed as he stared at his boyfriend now. His chest was heaving, and his knuckles were red and inflamed, but he didn’t appear to be in any pain. He was staring down at Robbie, who was clutching at his nose, and Sanha knew that it was broken, judging by the steady red stream slipping between his fingers.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ touch what’s _mine_.” Rocky had said it so venomously that no one in their right mind would ever undermine his words. Bin was cowering in his seat, because all of a sudden, he realised that _shit_ , Sanha had been telling the truth the entire time, and MJ, for some reason unknown to Sanha, was grinning through the whole thing.

He could hear a commotion to his side, and he knew it would be teachers coming to sort it all out, but for now, all Sanha could do was stare at Rocky. This was normal, Sanha was always staring at him, but this time Sanha didn’t care about the rest of the lunch room or his friends or the staff members dragging all three boys away to the principal’s office, or the cries of his friends apologising for not believing him – all Sanha cared about was the fact that everyone knew now, and Rocky looked so unbearably hot punching that asshole in the face, and Sanha was so desperate to get home that he didn’t _care_ what happened next.

Judging by Rocky’s possessive grip on his waist and hand as they walked to the office, he was feeling the exact same way.

 

In the end, neither Rocky or Robbie were allowed to attend the school dance. Sanha, in all honesty, was overly relieved. The entire thing seemed cursed right from the beginning, and was glad he could spend the night with his boyfriend instead. The night of the dance, the boys playfully cooked lasagne and ate an entire cheesecake between them, and kissed long and hard and well into the night, until Sanha’s parents woke them up from their awkward position on the couch the next morning, legs tangled, hands clutching each other, lips a little too red and plump. Rocky was shirtless and Sanha was red-faced and his neck was tingling, his parents laughing, but Sanha was Rocky’s and Rocky was _his_ , and Sanha would never forget the way Rocky had spat _mine_ at Robbie on the floor. For the rest of the day, Rocky would whisper sweet nothings and Sanha would swallow them up and hide them away for another day, _and_

And, to make things better, when he walked into school the next day with a series of blackening bruises on his neck, paired with the smug smirk that Rocky wore, no one ever doubted Sanha again.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello at [softsocky!](http://softsocky.tumblr.com/) i lov eu all so much bye


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